


the roar and rush become a hush

by sarahcakes613



Series: Baredio [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Homophobic Language, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Praise Kink, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: When Barba gives Felipe his address, Felipe doesn't really know what to do with it. Some hours later, he shows up at Barba's home and he still isn't sure why.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Felipe Heredio
Series: Baredio [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105742
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	the roar and rush become a hush

**Author's Note:**

> CW for a Spanish homophobic slur. All Spanish is from Google so, it is quite likely not 100% accurate. 
> 
> Opening quote is from the SVU episode "Intersecting Lives" (17x22)

_"So, amiguito, I'll tell you what. You want to kill a D.A.? Right here? Surrounded by all these cops and cameras? And spend the rest of your life in prison? Here's my home address. You come by anytime you want."_

He wasn’t expecting a response, certainly not one so bold. The paper is shoved into his hand and he disappears into the crowd, because it’s easier than trying to get the last word. You never get the last word with lawyers, his mami always said. They’re too slick, they slide like oil around the truth and for every thing you say, they have a response.

He doesn’t look at the paper until he’s on the 4 Lexington train heading home hours later. It’s a feather in his pocket, but he feels the crackling weight of it as he pulls it out. The address is in Upper Manhattan and he doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but he is up and off the train at 125th, before it crosses the tunnel into The Bronx.

He stops in at a bodega, not wanting to show up empty-handed. Like this is a date or some shit, when it’s actually, he has no idea what. He doesn’t know what lawyers drink, probably not the cheap horse piss sold in corner stores, but he’s not in it for the taste, he’s in it for the liquid courage, so he grabs the least grimy bottle of wine he sees and if he cracks it open for a few sips on his walk, what the fuck ever.

By the time he gets to the address on the slip of paper, the bottle is a third down and he’s not a fucking lightweight, but he also hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast so he’s riding a mellow buzz. The address is a classy looking building, it has a doorman, and there’s a guy at a security desk with a binder and everything. The security guard looks him up and down with a sneer and he sneers back.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks in a condescending tone. Christ, Felipe thinks, doesn’t even matter what it is, put a uniform on a white guy and he thinks he’s better than you.

Felipe pastes on his best church smile. “I’m here to see Mr. Barba.”

“Is he expecting you?” The guard asks as he reaches for the phone.

Felipe shrugs. “Just tell him it’s the guy he gave his number to, he’ll know what you mean.” He leers a bit because he can tell it will make the other man uncomfortable. Fuck him, seriously. As if guarding a bunch of upper middle rich _pendejos_ gives him the right to judge Felipe.

The guard murmurs into the phone, staring hard at Felipe, and then hangs up. “Mr. Barba is on his way down.”

Well, shit. Felipe isn’t sure if he’s surprised or not. He kind of half-expected the lawyer to tell the guard to kick him out, or maybe call the cops.

The elevator doors open and he looks over to see Barba himself standing there in his sock feet. He’s in dark jeans and a sweater, looking nothing like the stuffed shirt lawyer he did a few hours ago but exuding the same cocky arrogance. He holds an arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing.

“Well, come on then, _amiguito._ ” He beckons Felipe over. Felipe waves a lazy salute to the security guard and saunters over to the elevator. Barba eyes him, taking in the paper bag he’s clutching, the way his other hand is tapping a nervous rhythm against his thigh.

As the doors close, Barba leans back against the wall of the elevator. “What’s your name, _amiguito_?” He asks.

“Felipe.” And he feels like an idiot, he should have given Barba a fake name.

The rest of the ride is silent, and when they reach Barba’s floor, Barba exits the elevator without looking back to see if Felipe is following him. He does, because he’s gotten this far, and besides, he’s curious to see what a bigshot lawyer’s apartment looks like.

“Shoes off.” Barba’s voice is curt, and Felipe responds immediately. Barba arches an eyebrow at the obedience.

It’s at about this point that Felipe begins to think he may be in completely fucking over his head.

Barba stands directly in front of him, and Felipe tries not to squirm like he’s standing in the principal’s office.

“Felipe,” the lawyer’s voice is soft, but firm. “do you know why I gave you my address today? Why you’re here, now?”

Felipe shakes his head.

Barba reaches a hand out, stroking Felipe’s cheek.

“I think you know that you’ve been a very naughty boy, _niñito,_ and I think maybe you want to be punished.”

The feel of soft palm and rough fingertips against his skin jars him into motion and he steps back.

“The fuck I do, lawyer man!” He shakes his head in disgust. “I don’t know why I came here but it ain’t for that, no way. I don’t do that shit, I’m not some freak.”

The lawyer arches his eyebrow again, and Felipe’s heart is thumping in his chest harder than it did the first time he pointed a gun at a bodega clerk.

“I’m no _maricon, lo entiendes_? I like girls, man. You know, big tits and a tight cunt, that’s my thing.”

“ _Si, entiendo_. So do I,” Rafael nods, and steps forward into Felipe’s space. He leans in to whisper in Felipe’s ear. “But it doesn’t stop me from also being a champion cocksucker, _niñito_.”

Felipe shivers as the other man’s warm breath brushes across his neck. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. He takes the bottle of wine from Felipe, who had honestly forgotten he was holding it, and sets it down on an end table.

“ _Ven aqui, cariño_.” He reaches for Felipe’s hand, and Felipe lets himself be guided down a hallway to a dimly lit bedroom.

He stands at the foot of the bed, his lips glued shut. Barba sits on the bed; his legs open in a wide vee.

“Felipe,” his voice is soft again. “I’m only going to ask this once, and I need you to be completely honest with me. Do you want to be a good boy for me?”

There are a million things running through Felipe’s head right now. What is he doing, no one can know, this isn’t worth a measly $250, the thoughts are a loud moving mass of scribbles in his head. Barba’s hand is on his knee, and the scribbling stops. Barba’s hand is on his knee and for the first time in a long fucking while, his head is quiet.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, but it feels natural to kneel, so he does. On his knees, he is at eye-level with the lawyer, who smiles at him. It’s a shark smile, he knows it because it’s the kind of smile he gives girls in the club.

“ _Vas a ser bueno, niñito_?” Barba asks.

Felipe nods. “ _Si, señor._ ”

The older man inhales sharply. He unbuckles his belt, slowly drawing it out loop by loop, and the movement is hypnotic. Felipe’s hands twitch as the older man draws down his zipper. He’s not wearing anything under his jeans and Felipe’s eyes are fixated as Barba pulls his cock out. It’s not fully hard, but it’s already thick, and Felipe swallows as he watches it growing harder.

“Open your mouth, _cariño,_ ” Barba says. His voice is still soft, like Felipe is some girl he’s trying to sweet talk.

Felipe opens his mouth. He can feel saliva pooling under his tongue. Barba rests a hand on the back of his head and gently pulls him down, slowly, giving him every chance to pull away. He doesn’t, he lets his head fall forward, mouth open.

The lawyer’s other hand is on his cock, and he tilts Felipe’s head as it comes down, sliding the tip of his cock into Felipe’s mouth. Felipe closes his mouth instinctively, his saliva coating the other man’s cock as it rests on his tongue.

Barba sighs. “So good, _cariño_ , you’re being so good.”

Felipe shivers, not sure when someone last praised him and even less sure about how tight it’s making his own pants feel. He tentatively tightens his lips and is rewarded with a spurt of precome on his tongue. He isn’t sure he can swallow like this, so it sits there, salty and mixing with his saliva. He can feel it pooling at the corners of his lips.

“I want you to just sit there and keep my cock warm, okay?”

Felipe doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand why you’d put your cock in someone’s mouth and then not want a blowjob, but this at least seems easier so he nods as best he can.

They sit like that for an hour or maybe only ten minutes, Barba with his legs spread, scrolling through his phone, and Felipe on his knees, thoughts drifting, quiet thoughts, that float away if he tries to focus on them.

Barba keeps one hand in Felipe’s hair the entire time, slowly stroking down the back of his head, like he’s soothing a frightened dog. When he stops, Felipe whimpers. When Felipe realizes he’s whimpered, he freezes, but then the hand is back and he hates himself as he is lulled back into relaxation.

“You’re doing so well for me, Felipe,” Barba praises him. “ _estas siendo un buen niñito para papi._ ”

Felipe’s pants are already feeling tight as his own cock throbs at the older man calling himself papi. It’s wrong, so wrong, but his own old man was a real motherfucker and Barba’s had more positive things to say to him in the past hour than his pops did in twenty years.

When Barba does finally pull Felipe off his cock, it’s a slow drag, his lips sealed tightly around it until the tip slides out with a final kiss. The lawyer wraps his hand around it and starts jerking it fast, his green eyes staring down at Felipe’s own glazed brown eyes and his swollen mouth. He comes with a low groan, hot stripes landing on Felipe’s cheeks and across his chin.

Barba lifts the hem of Felipe’s shirt up and uses it to wipe off his cock, and then the swiftly cooling come on Felipe’s face. He shifts his feet so one leg is between Felipe’s, and presses his toes up against Felipe’s crotch.

“ _Venir por mi, Felipe_.” Barba croons. “ _Quiero verlo ahora._ Come on, Felipe, show me how good you can be for your papi.”

Felipe feels hot all over as he thrusts down against the older man’s foot, bucking his hips once, and that’s all it takes before he is spilling in his pants, sticky-warm all over himself.

 _“Muéstramelo, por favor_.” Rafael says, and Felipe leans back, showing him the growing dark spot on his pants. Barba’s eyes darken and the shark smile is back.

He lets Felipe stand up and doesn’t offer him the bathroom to clean up. Instead, he walks Felipe to the front door. He hands him the open bottle of wine to take with him, confirming Felipe’s suspicion that it was probably too cheap for the lawyer’s fancy taste buds.

“Felipe,” Barba says, before Felipe can leave. “Why did you threaten me today?”

The cash burns a hole in his pocket. He doesn’t see a good reason not to tell him. He’s already been paid, and it’s not like he has anything really useful to offer, names or anything like that.

“Someone paid me. I don’t got names. $250 to threaten you.”

“$250? That’s it?” Barba scoffs, looking offended. Felipe looks around. Yeah, that’s probably less than what this guy spends on fancy restaurants in a month, but it meant a new pair of kicks for Felipe.

Barba looks at him, contemplative. “You still have the paper I gave you?”

Felipe feels it, crumpled in his pocket. He nods.

“My phone number’s there too. If they get in touch with you again, I want you to call me. I’ll pay double their offer if you can get me a name.”

His instinct is to spit, he’s no snitch, but money is money and it’s not like the other guys are on his team or whatever. They’re just some voices on a phone.

“Yeah, whatever. If they call, I’ll tell you.” He shuffles his feet, anxious to leave now that his shorts are sticking to him, the wine buzz faded.

“Good.” Barba murmurs. “Good boy, Felipe.”

He hitches his shoulders up in a defiant shrug as he leaves the apartment, but he can hear light mocking laughter following him down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, Sarahcakes has invented yet another rarepair entirely so she can write daddy kink, how revolutionary of her.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Trouble is your middle name (but in the end you're not too bad)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291591) by [sarahcakes613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613)




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